


Growth

by HellenARTworkS



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: First chapter is SFW, Gen, Hormonal Changes, Masturbation, Mentions of Male Genitalia, Puberty, Questionable Research Methods, Rating will change, Teenage Struggle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22941106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellenARTworkS/pseuds/HellenARTworkS
Summary: It wasn’t a matter of jealousy. It was a matter of how each and every one of the other boys of Old Corona began developing into young men way earlier than him, while still being way younger than he was. They were being included in grown-up matters, their opinions were listened to, and had a lot more access to what Old Corona had to offer to men.Meanwhile, all he could hear from his father was an endless mantra of “you’re not old enough yet”, “children have no place here”, blah blah.Of that, quite frankly, Varian was fed up.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 45





	1. Theory

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally born as a joke between me and another TTS fan via Discord — I shall keep her identity hidden per her request.  
> However, it quickly turned into something more once realizing how little of this topic is discussed within this fandom, leaving a serious gap for many young teens struggling with their own new discoveries, seeking for representation in their favourite characters.
> 
> Experimenting with themselves also through fanart and fanfiction should not be shamed. It's a safe way to learn. It's good.  
> And quite normal as well, that's how the world keeps going.  
> Adults went through it. Teens are most likely going through it. Children will definitely join the party sooner or later.
> 
> Disney themselves played this card with Big Hero 6. It's nothing new, and to be fair, it's quite funny as well.
> 
> This is for you, then, friend! Enjoy!  
> AU in which the amber incident never happened, and Varian is simply a curious ~~teenager~~ alchemist. Shenanigans ensue.  
> NOTE: Rating will go up in future chapters.

Squinting blue eyes reflected in the wooden hand mirror, leather-clad hands tensing the skin below the nose and around the chin area, studying every inch with an inquisitive look.  
The light in the room certainly did not help in spotting any growth, but light or not, there was no sign of change since his last check, the previous morning.

The young alchemist placed the mirror back onto his table, then pursed his lips in frustration.  
He was only a week away from his fifteenth birthday, and even so, he was _still_ wearing the same ragged slacks he wore since the previous year, _still_ being addressed as a child, even though Daniel — the baker's youngest son — was one year younger than him and already twice his size.

And what about Gerwin? ...Gabriel? Gilbert?  
Whatever his name was, not even at thirteen and a half years old his upper lip sprouted a lot of thick, dark hair, which he’d boasted about for weeks.

Not that Varian really liked the other boys of Old Corona. They never really showed any intention to be friendly towards him, so why would he?  
It wasn’t a matter of jealousy. It was a matter of how each and every one of them began developing into young men way _earlier_ than him, while still being way _younger_ than he was.

What made it worse, they were being included in grown-up matters, their opinions were listened to, and had a lot more access to what Old Corona had to offer to men.  
Meanwhile, all he could hear was an endless mantra of “you’re not old enough yet”, “children have no place here”, blah blah.

Even _his own father_ , who knew well of his age and that of the other boys, was guilty of such condescending words, and of that, quite frankly, Varian was fed up.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t grown up from his childhood years, anyway. His voice definitely dropped. He started out one day feeling hoarse, and within a few months he had a whole new voice to get accustomed to, with the worst sort of squeaks and cracks to learn to keep under control.  
An eventful year for sure, although now the cracking grew more and more infrequent as time went by, usually occurring only if he were to raise his voice.

But after his voice and a series of rather annoying blemishes on his forehead — zinc oxide, he found, was a great help with those — nothing else seemed to be going to change anytime soon.  
It was like his growth into adulthood had come to a stop. And if no one could offer an explanation, then Varian would look into it by himself.

That is why, about six weeks prior, Varian dove knee-deep into research.  
First, he searched Old Corona's library. Of course, there wasn't much to be found there, so he decided to move his research to Corona, and boy, did he find what he was looking for.  
His newest research was a breakthrough after the other. 

The most progress came once he got his hands on a book written centuries earlier by the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle. Surely, it contained some outdated concepts, but among all the articles and essays he browsed up to that point, that was the only one that gave him insight about what could be happening inside of his body.

Apparently, Aristotle’s experiments and observations on both animals and men led him to the conclusion that, if deprived of specific organs, males were not only unable to reproduce, but even develop secondary characteristics typical of adulthood.

That was it! That was the answer!

His mind raced with excitement at that major discovery.  
There had to be _something_ in these organs, perhaps a substance or an element that, if removed, stalled the course of nature and therefore made it impossible for a young male to complete his development.

What was left for him to do was figure out _what_ this element was... _and how to enhance it_.

Four weeks passed since, which he spent mostly reading and theorizing on how to access said element to study it. He was never one who liked to get his hands dirty, in fact, he was one to faint at the slightest sight of blood, so animal dissection was not an option. However, if the greatest alchemists of the past could transform base metals into gold and silver, or create elixirs of life and panaceas, then there were chances he could find a way to transmogrify something else into what he needed.

It took him days and nights of continuous trial and error to produce, extract and synthesize what he thought could be the answer to his problem. A draught that, if administered regularly, could boost his development, and help him reach adulthood in half the time of his peers.  
If everything went according to plans, by the end of the next two weeks of testing, he would be able to sport a brand new set of facial hair. Perhaps, even a goatee like Flynn Rider!

Unfortunately, luck did not seem to be on his side.

His first test caused a terrible rash all over his body that left him itchy and restless for days. Even worse, his father believed it to be a second case of chickenpox, so he was forced to stay in bed, achieving absolutely nothing in terms of his research. But he did not give up.

As soon as the itchy blisters left, he was onto his next attempt.  
His second test did not seem to be as disastrous as the first, but he could notice some significant changes in terms of sensitivity. At first, it did not seem like it had any sort of effect on him, so all in all, he considered it an improvement and simply continued with his daily activities.  
Only a handful of hours later his heartbeat spiked, his head started spinning, and his whole body began shaking like a leaf. It was with a knot in his stomach and cold and clammy hands that he dragged himself to his father’s dinner table later that evening, where he broke down into his unmanliest tears without even understanding why. That was... awkward.

But it wasn’t the first time some of his experiments caused alterations in his mental state — most of the times, simply because he forgot to open the windows and let fresh air replace toxic fumes. As such, albeit still slightly fuzzy-headed, he recorded the new development among his notes, altered the draught’s formula, and proceeded with his third and last test to date.

Three days passed. Three days in which no side effects were recorded, but neither were any developments. Absolutely nothing.  
No hair in sight, not on his face, nor in any other area where the sun shall not shine.

With that dosage, he _had_ to sport some changes. Something was wrong with his formula.  
_And, oh, he was going to figure out what._


	2. Experiment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things got hectic, so it took some time to finish up this chapter.  
> It is also thrice as long as the previous.
> 
> On a side note, I found that more people than I thought seem to be interested in this sort of topic in the TTS fandom, which is... surprising.  
> On another note, it appears that _four_ of those who I thought were not interested were in fact _eager_ for this chapter to come out. I guess that's who I'm dedicating it to, hah!
> 
> Tags and rating have been updated. NSFW ahead, as warned!

The morning sun peeked at last into the tower's small window, projecting haphazard shadows among the clutter on the wooden floorboards. The room was quiet, save for the faint snores coming from the bed propped against the wall.

Ruddiger the raccoon slept curled up by the footboard, seemingly undisturbed by the shuffling of the young alchemist as he turned on his stomach, bony arms wrapped around his pillow, a small string of drool sliding down from the corner of his mouth.  
Varian’s brow twitched, then a small snort escaped him as he scrunched his nose in another sleep driven switch in his position. His feet kicked ever-so slightly, digging his knees into the crunchy mattress below with a soft hum.

Sunrays gently warmed up his right cheek from above, but that did not seem to disturb the alchemist's slumber, albeit the slight erratic movements in his hips gradually grew into a somewhat regular pattern, pressing forward, then backwards with the hint of a shudder, back and forth in increasing thrusts that occasionally shook his thin frame underneath the bed covers, in a twist of soft rustling and quiet murmurs.  
The slightest hitch in his breath came with a sudden halt in his motions, shoulders stiffening as he arched his back in a spasm-like tremor. A high-pitched sigh washed away all the tension in his limbs, and with a sleepy sniffle he rolled onto his side, head bobbing off of his pillow as he curled up on himself.

It took some more time for the young alchemist to finally awaken.  
He blinked his eyes open at the damp feeling of Ruddiger’s warm nose against his, and a chuckle went past his lips as he turned onto his back and stretched with a satisfied groan.

«Hey, buddy,» he greeted as he opened his arms to welcome him in, earning a happy chitter in response, «Did you sleep here the whole night?»  
Ruddiger twirled on the spot with another chirrup, then hopped onto Varian’s chest and tucked his muzzle under the sleepy boy’s chin.

The young alchemist chuckled, then rested his head back onto his pillow with a content sigh, running his fingers through the raccoon’s soft fur.

Of course, Ruddiger seemed to enjoy pets and snacks at pretty much any time of the day, but for Varian’s part, slow awakenings like that were like a breath of fresh air from time to time.  
Sleep — much like eating, relieving himself, or any other sort of disturbance really — tended to divert his attention from his line of thoughts, thus making it terribly hard for him to just pick back up whatever work he had to put on hold. His focus would be gone, his drive faded, and whatever he’d be working on would end up being thrown into the ever-growing pile of scrapped projects at the corner of his laboratory.

To avoid that, what Varian preferred to do was focus solely on his projects, limiting disruptions as much as possible.  
Small snacks opposed to big meals, the use of a chamber pot instead of a trip to the outhouse, or short power naps at his desk instead of a whole night of sleep.   
That was, of course, unless he planned things ahead, with pauses for meals, sleep and leisure — and a bath, occasionally.

That was one of these times.  
Not to mention how he definitely needed a break to ponder over his formula, and figure out what exactly went wrong with his latest attempt.

 _The elements I used were all synthesized correctly, no question about that,_ he thought.

Perhaps he should have turned off the burner before the boiling point?   
Wait, no, maybe after? Maybe, the solution should’ve boiled for longer, until it reached a higher concentration for the dosage he adopted...

Varian shook his head.  
No, he was positive he tried it all, and all of his tests to date turned out to be dreadful to endure.  
Well, _two of them_. The third one was merely a stalemate.

If anything, he was glad to note, his first attempts helped refine his formula into one that would no longer sprout boils all over his body, or leave him with his head hanging over a bucket for hours on end — ethanol, he found, worked wonders as a solvent, but too much of it unquestionably brought unfortunate results.

Ruddiger’s warm tongue against his neck brought Varian back to reality with a start, realizing he had been thinking out loud.

«Aw, sorry bud,» he laughed, rubbing the back of his hand on the tickled area before resuming his motions on the raccoon’s soft fur, «Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast?»

Ruddiger immediately perked up with a loud chitter, and Varian raised himself on his elbows, enough to watch the little critter hop off of his bed and sprint out of his door, pets forgotten.  
Typical of him, really. As soon as food was mentioned — particularly, apples — Ruddiger had the ability to forget anything, as long as he could nibble on his favourite snack.

With a peek into the corridor, the young alchemist plopped down onto his mattress once more with a sigh, looking up at the beams on his ceiling.

Well... time to start off the day, he thought.  
The only thing that kept him from enjoying his morning, however, was the stiff feeling of his bed sheets and nightwear rubbing uncomfortably between his legs.  
Of course, he wasn’t unfamiliar with the feeling, nor with the solution to the ‘problem’.  
He did, however, find it quite irritating at times, especially when he had other things to focus on.

Waiting it out, he found, often helped things settle down on their own. Other times, unfortunately, he was not as lucky, and he’d end up walking around his laboratory with his slacks’ inseam rubbing against him with each stride, causing the pressure in his loins to increase uncomfortably, to the point that he was no longer able to ignore the feeling and had to pause whatever activity and retire in the privacy of his room to deal with his urges.

He definitely had every intention to focus on his project alone that day, and if that wasn’t going to leave... well, that was going to be a problem. So he rolled his eyes, then adjusted himself onto his side and reluctantly slid a hand inside his slacks.

A warm shiver shook him as soon as he touched his bare skin, and he gulped down a sigh at the sweet feeling of his hand rubbing the underside of his length, slowly making its way down to his testes. His eyes slid close with the slightest hitch in his breath, and his hips gave a tentative jerk forward, his head spinning lightly at the sweet pressure beginning to build up in his loins.   
His hand moved back up, gently kneading at the base of his length, eyes opening slightly to check on his surroundings before another shiver had his back arch in bliss, and with that he turned onto his stomach and let out a choked moan. His mattress’ warmth engulfed him, and his hips thrusted forward again and again, until he found himself propped up onto his elbows, face flushed with pleasure, forehead planted against his headboard, hips pumping aimlessly into the soft warmth of his bed sheets.   
It did not take long before he could feel his high approach. His thighs tensed with each thrust that inched him closer the edge, shivers running up his spine at the tightening sensation in his stomach. He shot a glance towards his door once again, and with one last pump of his hips, his breath cut short.

Hot droplets made their way out and spilled into his pajamas in numbing waves, and the young alchemist breathed his relief into his pillow, hot forehead warming the abused linen as he came down from his high. The tension in his limbs released quickly, and Varian found himself gasping for air with a half-smile on his lips, eyes closed in delight.

If anything, that was taken care of for the day.

When he made his way downstairs, the kitchen was empty.  
The clock read mid-morning, and the young alchemist decided to help himself to a fresh apple that he held between his teeth, also making sure to grab a couple of slices of rye bread and a handful of nuts.  
These made wonderful snacks to eat even while focusing on his work, and with his hands full he now strolled towards his laboratory, pushing his door open with his bottom and closing it with his foot.

On his desk were his notes, scribbled over with inks of different colors in a jumble of arrows, and annotations, and calculations. Varian idly brushed the rolled up scraps of paper off of his desk, then picked up his latest records and bit into his apple with a ‘cronch’.  
Ruddiger appeared from behind his alembics, a hopeful look on his chubby snout.

Upon first glance, his formula seemed just fine.  
All the elements he employed he had personally analyzed, evaluated and measured to the finest detail, leaving no margin of error. And yet, while it did not trigger any major side effect like the previous ones, it did not cause _any_ effect at all, which left the young alchemist quite crossed.  
It was great progress, but Varian felt like he just walked into a dead end.

Ruddiger scooted closer to him, reaching a paw out to the apple in his hand.  
Varian tapped his foot on the ground, pensive, absentmindedly letting his pet raccoon take a bite before bringing it back up to his mouth. _Cronch_.

«This... makes no sense!» He then exclaimed, drops of apple juices spraying from his mouth in exasperation, «The ingredients are all correct! Altering their states would make them unstable, so that definitely is a no-go,» he mused, «but I should have gotten some reaction from this, don’t you think, Ruddiger?!»

The raccoon chittered in response, then shifted his attention towards the small pile of nuts on the edge of the table.

«Exactly! Unless—»

A breakthrough. Could one of these elements be... _an inhibitor?  
_ The alchemist dropped his apple and rushed to the rickety library at the far corner of the lab, diving behind the stash of Flynn Rider volumes, right into his scientific tomes.  
Newspaper clippings and cutouts flew all over as he feverishly flipped through one of the books in search of the right section.

_Contact action.  
Catalysis.  
Inhibitors and promoters._

His eyes settled triumphantly on the paragraph addressing the subject, and with newfound enthusiasm he plopped onto his bench, crossed his legs and plunged into reading.  
Behind him, Ruddiger happily dug into the forgotten bread slices and nuts.

When the young alchemist finally closed the tome and returned to his workbench his eyes sparkled in anticipation. It made so much sense.  
Apparently, some elements had the ability to hinder an alchemical reaction, essentially reducing, and even nullifying the reaction rate. Similarly, some others had the ability to increase the reaction rate to the point of magnifying the reaction exponentially, and that, to Varian, sounded like the solution he needed for his conundrum.

By looking over his formula, however, it seemed like none of these known ‘inhibitors’ was involved, which definitely left him puzzled on how to approach this new breakthrough. What he did not employ until then, however, was an element that could act as a promoter.  
A _catalyst_ , so to speak.

If his assumptions were correct, the only issue with his formula was that its effect was not strong enough, and all he needed to do was simply intensify it.

It took him no more than a few hours to synthesize what he deemed the perfect promoter for his formula, and by the time he could dip his pipet in and extract a few drops from the beaker, his hands were shaking with anticipation.  
He held the flask with his original preparation in his left hand, then excitedly observed the drops as he released them into the mixture.

One.  
Two.  
_Three_.

Then, he swirled the flask, taking a tentative whiff to test the odor. He took a mental note as the originally acrid smell seemed to grow stronger, as well as its composition changing to a slightly thicker appearance. No change in terms of color, as per the taste... he brought the flask to his mouth, tilted his head back, and gulped down its contents in one fast swig.

On with the test.

The rest of his morning he spent jotting down his first observations.  
His notes were updated with references from the book, as well as further calculations, and the step-by-step instructions as to how he formulated and extracted his promoter.

A few drops of sweat formed on his brow in the process, which he swiftly wiped away with the back of his glove. He knew his laboratory could get rather hot at times, especially at noon — which definitely went by, given his dad’s heavy footsteps behind his closed door — so he did not give it much thought, and merely continued with his work.  
As he focused on further studying the subject on another tome, however, his brow began producing more droplets that slowly made their way down his temples, and he found himself needing to unbutton his shirt and fan himself with a few spare papers in an attempt to cool off.

 _This is weird_ , he mused, the spark of a doubt creeping up at the back of his head. _  
_He lowered his book, and with a hesitant hand, he picked up his quill, and scribbled down:

_Side effects:  
Sweating_

Then resumed his reading.

By the time he reached the fourteenth page, an uneasy feeling began spreading in his midriff, leaving him breathless and slightly lightheaded.  
Strange of course, but rather than associate it with his formula, it was easier to assume the cause could’ve simply been the overwhelming heat spreading in the laboratory.

_Perhaps a glass of water might help_ , he thought, and with that he bookmarked his page and made his way to the kitchen.   
But no amount of water seemed to ease the tightening grasp in his stomach, and when even rinsing his face proved to be unproductive, he stumbled his way back into the laboratory and added _weakness_ to the list of side effects.

A side effect that proved to be the least of his problems once his heart rate spiked and his whole body squirmed in discomfort, forcing him to drop his quill and run his fingers through his damp hair.  
His stomach burned, fire spreading through his back and worming into his loins in a series of hot flashes, relentless pain growing with each throb until it seized his groin and cut his breath short in a pathetic groan.

His hand protectively reached below, and only then he realized how painfully hard he was.  
His eyes shot wide open in confusion, chest heaving with each gasp for air as he looked around his laboratory, at a loss.

Another jolt shook him from head to toe, this time mixed with an overwhelming feeling of anticipation pooling in his loins. Blood pumped wildly in his veins, whooshing in his ears as another shockwave had his hips twitch on his seat and his groin throb, and with that he sprung up, startling Ruddiger awake from his nap.  
He steadied himself on the edge of the table, rubbing sweat away from his brow.

That was... frighteningly intense, and yet dreadfully familiar.  
Like the same feeling that woke him up that very day, only a thousand times more powerful, white-hot and numbing with each wave that dashed through his spine and sent the whole room spinning around him.

He held his hand firm between his legs, gulping.  
Whatever caused that raging reaction, he knew _how_ to get rid of it.

With that knowledge, he ignored Ruddiger’s worried chitters and turned on his heels, staggering into the hallway. He then lurched towards the staircase and up he scurried three steps at a time, making his way up with only one destination in mind.

_The privacy of his own room._


End file.
